


Unexpected

by idelthoughts



Series: Tumblr Ask Box Fic [12]
Category: Forever (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 20:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idelthoughts/pseuds/idelthoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's always handy to have a solid working relationship behind you, especially when in bed with someone as stubborn as Molly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unexpected

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my tumblr for the prompt: _four words: Henry. Jo. Molly. Tantra. (Fifth word, yes!) Go!_
> 
> Not really tantra, but certainly some sex.

Henry agreed to this, Jo reminded herself.  He looked like he’d died and been offered pearly gates, had offered himself up like a turkey delighted to become Thanksgiving dinner.  And, by how hard he was inside her, from the soft sighs that were nearly moans, he was still into it.  She didn’t need to feel guilty.  
  
He was cuffed, hand and foot to Molly’s bed.  Jo had worried at first, but he’d flashed her the widest, happiest grin with a wink before Molly slipped the blindfold over his eyes and he’d dropped his head back.  
  
Jo’s attention came back to the present when Molly’s hands shifted on Jo’s hips, coaxing her up, and then down again, rocking her on Henry’s cock.  Henry’s hands tugged lightly at his bonds.  Jo looked up into Molly’s face, at the pink cheeks and soft, observant expression.  Jo licked her lips, not certain how much longer she could take this.    
  
Molly was straddling Henry’s chest facing Jo, her full attention devoted to her, completely ignoring Henry, as though he were a mere prop in this event.  Molly’s hands were everywhere on Jo’s body, stroking her arms, her chest, her back, her breasts, her neck.  
  
Jo could barely think.  How long had this been going on?  Her entire body felt like it was raw with energy, every stroking touch making her throb, until even the small rocking movements on Henry’s cock had been too much and they’d slowed to this gentle thrust every so often.  She was on the cusp of orgasm, her breath shallow and harsh, and Molly—Molly was taking in every inch of her, making sure it lasted, measuring each movement with a precision Jo couldn’t remotely manage right now.  
  
Left to her own devices she’d grind down, bring herself off right now.  She could, easily.  She wanted to, was tempted to ignore Molly’s guidance and do it anyway.  
  
Maybe Molly knew her thoughts, because she smiled slightly, cupped Jo’s face and brought her close to kiss her.  Molly’s breasts brushed against her own, another streak of tingling sensation, and her light hands smoothed along the small of her back, down to cup Jo’s ass.  
  
Then, a firm lift and press, and Jo’s hips rocked on Henry again.  Jo gasped, and was rewarded with another directed press.  Henry was shifting beneath her, his breathing desperate, but Jo didn’t have the focus for him.  Molly had her mouth on Jo’s neck, was firmly guiding and pushing her hips to grind her down in the exact movement she needed.  
  
“That’s good, just like that,” Molly whispered against her neck.  “You can come, it’s okay.”  
  
Jo had never needed anyone’s permission before, never wanted it, but the unspoken _good girl_ tone of Molly’s words did something to her as much as the brush of her soft curves against Jo’s longer body, and Jo clutched Molly close, leaning her weight on her as a last thrust pushed her over.  She cried out, pressing her face to Molly’s blonde hair, shuddering hard.  
  
Henry’s hips were rocking up, he was muttering “please, oh god, please don’t stop,” under his breath, and Jo could hear Molly chuckle softly as she supported Jo’s sagging weight.  
  
Jo opened her eyed to look over Molly’s shoulder at Henry’s face, the blindfold a black slash hiding his eyes, his lips pulled back, baring clenched teeth.  His hands were fists, arms taught as he pulled against the restraints.  Desperate.  So, so desperate.  Inside her, his cock was hard, his hips shifting and making her shiver through the residuals of her second orgasm of the night.  
  
“Henry,” she murmured.  “Doing okay there?”  
  
He gulped and nodded, short and jerky.    
  
“Yes, I’m—I’m fine,” he said finally.  
  
Molly laughed again, straightening and moving off Henry’s chest to kneel beside him, pausing to lean down and kiss him.  Henry followed her lips when she pulled away, making a noise of protest as both she left him, and then as Jo let herself be pulled from him to lie down on the bed at Henry’s side.  Molly kneeled between them, looking between her and Henry with a hungry yet satisfied look.    
  
Exhausted and languid, Jo rolled her head to look at Henry.  It was strange to see him this desperate.  She’d seen Henry frightened, angry, even in pain, but never had he seemed beyond his own control.  Now, he was immobilized, blind, and willingly at their mercy.  
  
Molly’s mercy.  Jo might not be bound, but she was just as surely being instructed and controlled.  Perhaps Henry wasn’t the only prop.  It didn’t make it any less enjoyable.    
  
Henry moaned and rolled his head back, and Jo glanced down to see Molly astride Henry, sinking onto him slowly, her eyes closed and red lips open.  
  
“Jo, kiss him,”  Molly whispered, running her hands over Henry’s clenched stomach.  “Touch him.  All over, like I did to you.”  
  
Jo rolled into Henry’s side, compelled by the firm, clear instructions, her knees knocking against Molly’s thigh.  Henry’s skin was burning hot, and he turned his head eagerly towards her to find her mouth, his tongue and lips sucking and desperate, damp and fierce.  With each shift of Molly on his cock his mouth slackened and he whimpered, then the fervour returned at he kissed her with such need that Jo couldn’t help a small laugh at his expense.  He smiled with her, following her kiss as though she were his only connection to a world outside himself.  
  
She let her hand stroke his arms first, as Molly had done, then over the delicate, ticklish skin of his sides.  Henry bucked and writhed under her touch, his body sensitive all over. Then his chest, over hard nipples, his ribs, his stomach, eventually to comb softly through the short hair at his groin, just above where he and Molly were joined.  
  
His legs pulled against the thick leather cuffs and he groaned, frustrated.    
  
“This is torture,” he gasped.  
  
“That’s the idea, love,” Molly said, and she winked at Jo.  But her control was less now, her own rhythmic movement on Henry speeding.  “Just relax, enjoy it.”  
  
Henry made a noise deep in his throat, and he was shivering, his muscles quivering under Jo’s hands.   He’d lost his articulate vocabulary long ago, reduced to begging as first Molly, then Jo, had ridden him slowly, brought themselves off with the aid of his body and the attentions of each other.  
  
But not him, not yet.  Jo was impressed, she’d admit it.  She’d had trouble standing the slow and deliberate pace Molly set them.  Henry was beside himself, and she watched the play of emotion on his face, fascinated.    
  
“Please, a little faster,” he begged, his voice cracking, his hips bucking up with what little leverage he could manage.  “Please.”  
  
Jo couldn’t resist, she wanted to see his whole face.  She brought a hand to the blindfold, nudging at the cloth.  She checked Molly’s reaction, and Molly nodded, her expression understanding, and Jo pulled it off Henry’s face.  
  
He blinked in the light, then took in Molly on him, shifting to Jo at his side, and then he closed his eyes again, his hips straining up to meet Molly’s movement.  
  
“Oh god,” he gasped again, his eyes opening, completely lacking in focus, his mouth hanging.  “Oh god, I can’t anymore.  I can’t.  Please,” he begged abjectly.  He strained to reach Jo’s mouth, and she kissed him as he whispered his plea over and over.  “I can’t, please, please let me come, please.”  
  
“See, Jo?  I told you he’d be beautiful like this.”  
  
Molly’s expression had turned hungry, hard, her breath harsh as her eyes bored into Henry.  She was lapping up every pathetic noise he made, and it was as though it fed her arousal even more than the physical connection.  
  
Jo had as much need to hear those words from Molly’s mouth as she did Henry’s.  She pulled from Henry’s side and shifted to straddle Henry’s legs behind Molly, fitting her body to every inch of Molly’s smaller form.  She wrapped her arms around her, tight like a wrestler’s hold, and lifted.  Then brought her down on Henry’s cock.  Hard.  
  
Both of them gasped, and then Molly’s head dropped back on Jo’s shoulder with a high whine.  Jo smiled.  Molly wasn’t the only one who could control this.  She did it again, using her own hips to grind Molly down again, and this time Molly let out a choked cry.  
  
“He is beautiful,”  Jo whispered in Molly’s ear, and then she bit at her earlobe softly.  “But I want to see you do a little begging too, okay?”  
  
Molly panted, her hands wrapping back to cup Jo’s hips, clutching at her.    
  
“You can try.”  Jo could tell she was holding Henry’s eye by his focus, and Molly gasped again as Jo ground her down once more, then laughed, deep and soft.  “I bet you can’t before poor Henry here comes.  Look at him.”  
  
Jo did, and he was a mess.  Sweating, his face and chest ruddy, shivering.  But Jo caught his eye and lifted an eyebrow. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, then nodded.  Sometimes it was handy to have a solid working relationship behind you, especially when in bed with someone as stubborn as Molly.  
  
“I think he can make it,”  Jo said.  
  
With one hand she started to stroke at Molly’s clit, and the reaction was near instantaneous, her body arching away from Jo.  Jo held her close, kneading at one breast, pinching her nipple tightly, mercilessly rocking Molly onto Henry’s stiff cock.  
  
Henry worked with her, tilting his hips up with the same rhythm, his choked breathing loud and piteous, his thighs shivering beneath hers, Molly’s body heated and sweaty in her hold.  
  
“Jo, harder,” Henry panted.  “Harder.  Bite her—her—shoulder, her neck.”  
  
Molly moaned at Henry’s words, her head immediately falling to the side as though in offer.  Leave it to Henry to be deducing someone’s kinks while barely able to put two words together.  Jo dipped her head to mouth at the crux of Molly’s shoulder at neck, then catching the skin with her teeth, harder, firm, until Molly squirmed in her hold, both of them rocking together as she impaled Molly on Henry, Jo’s fingers working on Molly’s clit in a familiar, stroking rhythm that always worked on herself.  Beneath them, Henry was beside himself, eyes squeezed shut in absolute concentration.  
  
“Oh, yes, more, please,”  Molly whispered, and Jo smiled in victory, kissing her neck.  With a firm push she bent Molly forward so her body was along Henry’s and gripped her hips, encouraging her to slide on and off Henry’s cock, her rear slapping back against Jo’s hips and stomach with each move.  
  
Harder and harder, until Henry stiffened and heaved off the bed, lifting Molly, who rolled her hips twice more and keened loud, her teeth clamped hard onto Henry’s shoulder, and Henry cried out.  They both relaxed, collapsed in a panting pile, and Jo sat back on Henry’s thighs and her heels, grinning.  
  
She patted Molly on one flank.  
  
“Good work, guys,” she said.  “Nice show.”  
  
Molly giggled, giddy and silly, and then Henry joined her.  Jo moved to lie next to them again, wrapping an arm over Molly’s back and effectively embracing them both.  Molly kissed first Henry, then leaned over to kiss Jo.  She looked tired and blurry, but happy with a glowing contentment.    
  
“I don’t suppose,”  Henry said with a sigh, looking like he might fall asleep at any moment,  “that anyone might be willing to release me now?”  
  
Molly reached for one handcuff while Jo shifted and sat up to reach for his ankles.  In a moment he was free and he stretched, curling on his side.  He reached for them both, pulling them close, and eventually they arranged themselves so that Jo was snuggled between the two of them, arms and legs all entwined.  They were all exhausted, and it wasn’t long before she watched Henry’s eyes drift closed, and his breathing even out.  
  
Molly’s hand settled between Jo’s breasts, comforting.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered quietly.  “For letting me be a part of this.  I like you both, you know.  This isn’t just about Henry.”  
  
Jo hesitated before covering Molly’s hand.  She didn’t know how this had come to pass, how a celebration of Molly’s recovery had turned into flirting and the press of feet beneath the dinner table.  One domino knocked down another, until every reluctant fear had seemed insignificant.  Without Molly, this wouldn’t have happened, Jo knew it.  Jo and Henry on their own… No.  She’d thought about it, more times than she wanted to admit to herself, but she hadn’t known how to cross that line with him.  Molly was the catalyst that flipped the switch, from that first kiss she’d given Jo while Henry watched, curious, intrigued, scared.  Then Molly had tugged his hand, set him facing Jo.  Jo was overwhelmed, had kissed him while Molly was at her back, perhaps in the metaphorical as well as the literal, and then it was as though the flood gate was open.    
  
“Thank you for being here,” she settled on in return, and kissed Molly softly.  Molly’s smile was a bit watery, and she snuggled close, closing her eyes and breathing softly, her heart pounding against Jo’s side.  
  
Eventually Jo drifted off, listening to the soft breathing of two people who, suddenly, mattered a great deal to her.  This was not how she thought her life would go at this point.  
  
Her last fading thought was to wonder what Sean would have thought.  Knowing him, he would probably have been impressed.  
  
Jo fell asleep.    
  
  
  
  



End file.
